Hunting, Diving, Tree

My dog is full of lessons. Despite all my talk of wanting to be present in the moment, of not wanting to wish away my hours or minutes, I spent most of today watching the clock and waiting for the day to end. At ten o'clock this morning it felt as though it should be three, and it was all downhill from there. I wasn't the only one who felt it, we all did. The Muzak played the same songs it played yesterday and the day before ("I'm Too Sexy" and "Kung Foo Fighting" will not leave my head). I replied to the same emails over and over, had the same conversations, went through the same motions.

And then I got home and took Duncan for his walk. We headed west on Bowles to the Barnes and Noble, cut through the parking lot and skirted the northern edge of the lake. Along the way Duncan hunted his first rabbit (now that he has them in his nose I imagine he'll sniff them out as he has the squirrels), tried to dive in after the ducks, and treed two squirrels. He was single-minded and nothing could sway him, not even the ants which climbed up my legs and braided themselves into his tail. For nearly 15 minutes we stood on the median in Bowles on our way back home so that he could look up at the squirrel he'd treed. He wouldn't even break focus to appreciate my scratches behind his ear.


(Hunting Rabbit)

Tomorrow I will hunt rabbits, I will dive for ducks and I will tree every squirrel that comes my way.